In the midst of this room stood a couch, draped with curtains of all the colours of the rainbow, and suspended by golden cords so that it swayed with the Castle in a manner which rocked its occupant delightfully to sleep.

The host, dismounting, sped The parting guest whose boat rocked under him, And when the circling stirrup-cup went round, No light guitar, no lute, was heard again; But on the heart aglow with wine there fell Beneath the cold bright moon the cold adieu Of fading friends -- when suddenly beyond The cradled waters stole the lullaby Of some faint lute; then host forgot to go, Guest lingered on: all, wondering at the spell, Besought the dim enchantress to reveal Her presence; but the music died and gave No answer, dying.

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